


Stitched Up Wrong

by Lexebug



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anxiety, Comfort, Drabble, Dysphoria, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Panic Attacks, Trans Lance (Voltron), Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 22:03:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12045189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexebug/pseuds/Lexebug
Summary: Lance thinks something went wrong in the making of him.





	Stitched Up Wrong

Lance pulled uncomfortably at the edge of his binder, the familiar ache starting to return. he rolled his shoulders back, stretching his arms above his head. He could change after dinner, shower after the others, just like always. Smooth and easy. He returned to his food, trying to ignore the pain in his ribs. Had it been eight hours yet? Was dinner over yet? Pidge and Hunk were chattering on about engineering or something, Keith was nodding, Shiro chiming in occasionally. Coran shot Lance a look, obviously noticing his discomfort. Lance smiled tightly. He'd be fine, just gonna excuse himself and yawn, very causally, to try and stretch his chest out, and it'd all be chill. He did just that, and heard a distinct ripping sound from his shirt. Pulling his arms down carefully, he feigned itching at his side, and felt for the fabric. God, his breathing was already starting to speed up. And, yep, that was a hole. Right in the goddamn binder. Of course.

Okay. It was all okay. The ship had to have sewing supplies, right? he could fix it. Lance made a quiet excuse and stood up, arms tight as his sides. He rushed back to his room and threw his shirt off, trying to survey the damage. Oh geez. That was... a way bigger hole than he thought it had been. He pulled the binder off, and it practically fell to pieces in his hands. The seams were falling apart; he didn't even know what he'd done to ruin it this badly, but his chest felt just as tight as it did before, but that might be because he was starting to hyperventilate. Either way, something had to be done. Space tape? Spape? Glue? _Something_ could fix this. It had to.

Lance scrambled around the room, his blood pounding in his ears and tears threatening to spill over any second. There was nothing adhesive in this room. How the hell? Lance sat on his bed, and then slid onto the floor, and then finally crawled into his closet. It was dark in there, and he cradled his broken binder to his chest. If he concentrated hard enough on the darkness, it was almost like it was someone else's body. Someone's else's tears hitting the torn fabric of the binder. Someone else's horribly incorrect chest jumping up and down with sobs.

It was unmistakably his door, however, that was being knocked on. It was his Shiro's voice calling in. "Lance? Are you okay in there? You didn't eat a lot at dinner, you feeling okay?" It was caring and warm and soft and _awful _because nothing in Lance felt soft or kind right now. He felt like his atoms were separating from each other. Like he was being torn apart at the molecular level.__

__"Yeah, I'm fine." Shit, that sounded awful. Watery and gross and pathetic._ _

__"Lance, are you crying? What's wrong?"_ _

__"Nothing. It's fine." His voice was getting worse; shaky and croaky and making it painfully obvious he was NOT fine._ _

__"Lance, I'm coming in. You sound like you're hurt; did something happen?" Lance scurried backwards, farther into the closet. His breathing was coming way too fast, tears were streaming down his face, and he was holding a binder, for God's sake. This wasn't any way to be seen. His nails were carving tiny crescents into his forearms._ _

__"Are you in here?" Shiro cracked the closet door a bit, and Lance shuffled backwards, flinching away from the light. "Hey. What happened?" Shiro's voice was soft and quiet, gentle. Lance saw him crouch low to the ground, holding out a hand, like he was trying to interact with a frightened animal. Lance pulled his face up._ _

__"H...hey, Shiro."_ _

__"Lance, why are you hiding in a closet? The team's kinda worried; Coran said he thought you looked 'off' at dinner." Lance shook his head, because he couldn't respond to that, he couldn't make himself say the words out loud. "Do you want to talk about it?"_ _

__Shiro was edging his way into the closet, slowly making his way closer to Lance. He reached out a hand, and Lance took it, delicately. Silently, he pulled it back, clutching at his chest again. "Did you get hurt?" Lance shook his head, and Shiro finally looked at where Lance's arms were, at the destroyed binder. "Oh, Lance." Shiro moved around, pulling off his vest. He handed it to Lance, and Lance took it, hands shaking. Shiro gently pulled the binder from him, and set it aside._ _

__"Shh, shh. It's alright. We'll get you a new one. This is an extremely advanced civilization, they'll have something. It's alright." Shiro looped his arms around Lance and Lance let him, leaned into it with Shiro's vest held tight across his chest, and let sobs rack his body until they finally petered out._ _

__"C'mon. Let's get you some water and a sweatshirt." Shiro helped him up and pulled Lance into him as they walked out, side by side._ _


End file.
